#BookBlitz “She’s Got Soul” by Aja

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Zola Lewis is many things to many people. She’s a marketing extraordinaire by day, and a podcast host by night. She’s also a devoted daughter, a funny and care giving auntie to her sister’s daughter. But, the one thing she is not, is a wife to a loving husband and she’s beginning to think that could never happen because she’s entirely too opinionated for most men. One night on her live podcast, she experienced a challenging caller who seemed to aggravate her more than a little, and Zola wondered who was more opinionated. Zola or the caller?

Khalil Berry was a bit of a nerd growing up, and as a result, also a bit of a late bloomer. Time not spent with girls allowed him to stick with books. His big brain landed him many opportunities and by his mid-twenties, he’d amassed a fortune from his software apps. The latest app he’s developing requires more hands on research and he decides to do the research himself. First stop, listening to a podcast by a woman talking about women; a topic he was beginning to learn more about since his money seems attracts them all the time. The task was simple, listen and take notes. But, her voice is too melodic and her words, well, let’s just say she didn’t know what she was talking about as far as he was concerned. So he calls in to correct her.

They’re both great at giving a piece of their mind, but can they hand over their well-guarded hearts?



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Paperback copy of She’s Got Soul

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Aja is the writer of sensually erotic and passionate women’s fiction. Her stories allow readers to experience realistic, inspiring, and soulful interactions and intense passion while overcoming life’s challenges. She is inspired by soulful music and sensual art to craft her stories. Her published works include the Love & Passion series and the Love & Redemption series. Her newest release, She’s Got Soul is book 1 in the Soulmates series.

Halloween Book Blast and Giveaway!

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Click on any of the below book covers to be taken to the page that has more information on the novel as well as the Buy Links!
Before you leave, don’t forget to enter the Giveaway!

Meet Nancy Jardine, author of “The Celtic Fervour Series”

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Today we welcome author Nancy Jardine to Nesie’s Place!Nancy Jardine

Nancy  writes historical fiction; time-travel historical adventure; contemporary mystery thrillers; and romantic comedy. She lives in Aberdeenshire, Scotland, where life is never quiet or boring since she regularly child minds her young grandchildren who happen to be her next-door neighbours. Her garden is often creatively managed by them, though she does all the work! Her husband is a fantastic purveyor of coffee and tea…excellent food and wine! (Restorative, of course)

A member of the Historical Novel Society; Scottish Association of Writers; Federation of Writers Scotland; Romantic Novelists’ Association and the Independent Alliance of Authors, her work has achieved finalist status in UK competitions.

Thank you for spending a little time with us here on the blog, Nancy!

Where are you from?

I’m originally from Glasgow (Scotland) but now live in Aberdeenshire, Scotland.

Married with children, pets, or annoying roommates?

I’m married and live my husband. We have two daughters, one of whom (D1) lives next door with her husband and two children. D2 lives about a 45 minute drive away, so I don’t see her and her husband so often, or their two dogs. I regularly child mind my grandkids of 5 and 7 when their parents are working, and they pop-in and out a lot between the houses. During school summer holidays there are lots of impromptu ‘sleep-overs’.

When did you first consider yourself or know you were a writer?

My career was primary teaching, though I didn’t consider any writing I did back then as writing – it was mainly just work. With the exception of two local history projects, where I volunteered my summer holiday time (was nicely persuaded LOL) to write non-fiction books about the venues: a locomotive works and a primary school. When I retired from teaching in 2011, I decided those non-fiction books had given me the confidence and some of the skills to write fiction for publication. At first, I had the time to seriously get to work on fiction…and then the grandkids were born, hence the flurry of novels published from 2012-2014 and the slow-down afterwards. But this coming year I have high hopes!

How long did it take you to write your first book?

That’s hard to answer. There was an overlap between the writing and the publishing stages! I wrote an early version of The Beltane Choice, Book 1 of my Celtic Fervour Series, and sent it to The Wild Rose Press, a mainly ebook romance publisher in New York State. They politely declined the manuscript but gave me a couple of pages worth of suggestions to improve it. While I was doing those revisions, I decided to try a contemporary mystery which I wrote in about 4 or 5 months. I sent that off to The Wild Rose Press, they accepted it and published what became Monogamy Twist in 2012. When I finished the changes to The Beltane Choice, I sent the manuscript to Crooked Cat Books (a small independent publisher then based in Edinburgh) and they published the first edition in 2012.

Pantser or Plotter?

For Book 1 of the Celtic Fervour series The Beltane Choice I was definitely an almost total ‘pantser’. However, I learned fairly quickly that, although being a ‘pantser’ is my natural inclination, it pays to do a reasonable amount of plotting to keep on track, especially with timelines, historical events, and with aspects of a mystery that need correct sequencing. Each new novel has got more and more complex in plotting; in the amounts of main characters; and with multiple viewpoints depicted, so I now do more initial plotting. For Topaz Eyes, a contemporary mystery/ thriller my planning sheet covered my extended dining room table and was on piece of blank wall-lining paper. I’d created such a complex family tree (ancestral) that I needed a really big space to ensure that I kept up with my plot developments and timelines, which were crucial in that huge ‘fun-to-write’ novel. My Celtic Fervour Series is similar, with timelines and events that need to be absolutely accurate.

Have you ever taken the NaNoWriMo Challenge?

No. I’m not sure I would work well under that kind of pressure since I tend to need to research further as I write, even though I also do loads beforehand. That’s not to say I’d not try a NaNoWriMo style of ‘getting it all down’ strategy sometime in the future. I can’t write every single day, due to family commitments and life getting in the way, so setting aside that November time doesn’t seem like a possibility. However, I’ve done the April A to Z Blogging Challenge a couple of times where I’ve added a substantial post (average 1500 words) to my blog every day on Ancient Roman Britain/ Roman Scotland topics.

Are you self-published, traditional, or hybrid?

I’ve been all of those in the last seven years. As mentioned above with two small independent publishers first, contracted with them for two and four years respectively. I was hybrid when I self-published my historical time travel adventure in 2015, and now I’m self-published with Ocelot Press which is a co-operative of self-published authors who assist each other as and when we can.

What’s your favorite genre to write or do you only write in one genre?

Historical adventures and contemporary mysteries are my favourites. I loved writing The Taexali Game, my time travel historical, because that meant using the techniques necessary for contemporary mystery writing, along with the skills used for depicting authentic historical work. That novel was written for a wider audience from early teens through adult so the writing style was also a bit different.

What’s your favorite genre to read?

Historical, though I read all genres of fiction if something grabs my attention. I read a lot of historical non-fiction: some of which is research for my writing, and others just because I love history in general. ‘The King in the North- The Pictish Realms of Fortriu and Ce’ beckons very soon.

What are you reading now?

I just finished The Secret Diaries of Miss Ann Lister because I’d just watched the TV series. I usually would try to read the book first, but that’s not what happened this time. My kindle has a good stock of unread historical novels and some mysteries though I’ve also some paperback novels to catch up with- some crime, the rest historical.

Favorite beverage to read with?

A glass of delicious red wine. At the moment a good Malbec is a favourite.

What is your favorite non-writing, non-reading pastime?

Apart from being with my entertaining grand children, it would be gardening, which I do when the jobs are necessary or if the sun shines. (I’m a wimpish fair-weather gardener and in the north east of Scotland that can be intermittent!)

Where do you get the most writing done?

My writing desk is at my dining room window, where I can break off writing to watch the variety of birds hopping around the various trees and bushes.

view outside the window

Do you have pets who “help” or inspire you?

No. I’d probably neglect them like my poor houseplants! Though, I wrote an Irish Wolfhound – Thor – into my contemporary mystery Monogamy Twist after an overnight stint of looking after my daughter’s two dogs, who were relatively young at the time.

Totally addicted to social media or could you live without it?

Not completely addicted. I tend to check Facebook groups a couple of times a day, but I also catch up with politics and the news via the internet. I hardly ever read a paper newspaper now and wouldn’t want to miss my internet news copy! Twitter and all the many other sites I’ve joined are dipped into occasionally during the week, but I’m not prepared to spend all day on visiting them.

What’s the inspiration behind After Whorl: Bran Reborn? Who’s your favorite character?

At the end of Book 1The Beltane Choice an absolutely lovely, strong secondary character – Brennus– gets a raw deal from me. So it was very fitting that he has his own story told in Books 2 & 3 of the series. Brennus’ dire situation after the battle of Whorl (end Book 1) was brilliant for me to launch into much more interaction with the dominating Ancient Romans. As Bran, he doesn’t have it easy but he’s a real survivor at a time when it must have been incredibly difficult to resist the power of Ancient Rome. In a convoluted way Brennus/Bran’s situations also allow me to introduce a main Roman legionary character who plays a strong role as Brennus’ story progresses.

What’s your next project or release?

I’m working on Book 5 Beathan the Brigante which continues the story of the Garrigill clan members. There’s also more of General Gnaeus Iulius Agricola, Commander of the Ancient Roman Armies, but it’s mostly Beathan’s story. (Hint: Beathan is the baby born at the end of Book 1 prophesied to be an important Celtic warrior)

Do you have any advice for new authors?

There are many routes to publication. I’d say try to find what suits you and your lifestyle the best. If you consider that being successful is selling lots of books via the internet (Amazon etc), you have to be prepared to devote a lot of time (and sometimes expense) in promoting your work. Small independent publishers don’t have the cash to push forward all of their authors, and neither do the big traditional ones (as far as I’m told), so being an author isn’t only writing the actual novels.

Thank you so much, Nancy!

Thank you for inviting me to your blog, today!

Scroll down to read more about Nancy’s latest release and enter her giveaway!


After Whorl Bran Reborn (Celtic Fervour Series Book 2)


AD 71 Northern Roman Britain
Ravaged at the Battle of Whorl, Brennus of Garrigill is irrevocably changed. He embraces a new identity as Bran, vowing to avert Roman domination of Brigantia. Though how, when he and Ineda – his healer’s granddaughter – are forced to labour for the Roman IX Legion? Trading with the usurpers provides opportunities for gathering information, but after they are attacked by a Roman patrol, Ineda cannot be found.

Distraught with her loss, can Bran find a new occupation?

The adventures of the Garrigill Clan continue…

Purchase Link http://viewbook.at/heritis


Nancy’s Social Media Links



Facebook http://on.fb.me/XeQdkG & http://on.fb.me/1Kaeh5G


Amazon Author page



~ G I V E A W A Y ~

Win x1 signed paperback of After Whorl: Bran Reborn to one UK winner; 1 kindle copy to an International Winner


*Terms and Conditions –Worldwide entries welcome.  Please enter using the Rafflecopter box below.  The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then Rachel’s Random Resources reserves the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over.  Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information. This will be passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfillment of the prize, after which time Rachel’s Random Resources will delete the data.  I am not responsible for dispatch or delivery of the prize.


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#ChapterReveal “Beyond Measure: A Dark Bratva Romance” by Jane Henry

USA Today bestselling author Jane Henry delivers a gritty, impassioned romance of arranged marriage, fearless love, and ultimate triumph over evil.

I’m the girl no one wants.
Scarred beyond repair and locked away, I’m tainted and tarnished.
Unworthy of friendship, love, or hope.
But I was born into Bratva life, and my life is not my own.
I’m ripped from my home and forced to marry a man I’ve never met, sight unseen.
He’s ruthless, possessive, fierce…
My husband.


I scowl at the computer screen in front of me. As pakhan, the weight of everything falls onto my shoulders, and today is one day when I wish I could shrug it off.

A knock comes at my office door.

“Who is it?” I snap. I don’t want to see or hear anything right now. I’m pissed off, and I haven’t had time to compose myself. As the leader of the Boston Bratva, it’s imperative that I maintain composure.


“Come in.”

Nicolai can withstand my anger and rage. Over the past few months, he’s become my most trusted advisor. My friend.

The door swings open and Nicolai enters, bowing his head politely to greet me.


I nod. “Welcome. Have a seat.”

When I first met Nicolai, he wore the face of a much older man. Troubled and anguished, he was in the throes of fighting for his woman. The woman who now bears his name and his baby. But I’ve watched the worry lines around his eyes diminish, his smile become more ready. While every bit as fierce and determined to dutifully fill his role as ever, he’s grown softer because of Marissa, more devoted to her.

“You look thrilled,” he says, quirking a brow at me. Unlike my other men, who often quake in my presence, having been taught by my father before me that men in authority are to be feared and obeyed, Nicolai is more relaxed. He’s earned the title of brother more readily than even my most trusted allies.

“Fucking pissed,” I tell him, pushing up from my desk and heading to the sideboard. I pour myself a shot of vodka. It’s eleven o’clock in the fucking morning, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve been up all night. “Drink?”

He nods silently and takes the proffered shot glass. We raise our drinks and toss them back together. I take in a deep breath and place the glass back on the sideboard before I go back to my desk.

“Want to tell Uncle Nicolai your troubles?” he asks, his eyes twinkling.

I roll my eyes at him.

I made an unconventional decision when I inducted Nicolai into our brotherhood. The son of another pakhan, Nicolai came here under an alias, but I knew he had the integrity of a brother I wanted in my order. I offered him dual enrollment in both groups, under both the authority of his father and me, and he readily agreed. We’ve come to be good friends, and I would trust the man with my life.

“Uncle Nicolai,” I snort, shaking my head. None of my other brothers take liberties like Nicolai does, but none are as trustworthy and loyal as him, so he gets away with giving me shit unlike anyone else. “It’s fucking Aren Koslov.”

Nicolai grimaces. “Fucking Aren Koslov,” he mutters in commiseration. “What’d the bastard do now?” He shakes his head. “Give me one good reason to beat his ass and I’ll take the next red-eye to San Diego.”

He would, too. Nicolai inspires fear in our enemies and respect in our contemporaries. Aren falls into both categories.

“Owed me a fucking mint a month ago, and hasn’t paid up,” I tell him. I spin my monitor around to show him the number in red. “And you don’t need me to tell you we need that money.” As my most trusted advisor, Nicolai knows we’re right on the cusp of securing the next alliance with the Spanish drug cartel. Our location in Boston, near the wharf and airport, puts us in the perfect position to manage imports, but the buy-in is fucking huge. We have the upfront money, but the payout from San Diego would put us in a moderately better financial position.

Nicolai leans back in his chair, rubbing his hand across his jawline.

“And you have meeting after meeting coming up with politicians, leaders, and the like.”

I eye him warily. Where’s he going with this?

“It’s easy to say you need money. But that isn’t what you need, brother.”

I roll my eyes. “I suppose you’re going to tell me what I need.”

“Of course.”

“Go on.”

“You know what you need more than the money?” he asks. I’m growing impatient. He needs to come out with it already.

I give him a look that says spill.

“You need a wife,” he says.

A wife?

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Sometimes I think your father dropped you on your head as a child,” I tell him. What bullshit. I look back at the computer screen, but Nicolai presses on.

“Tomas, listen to me,” he says, insistent. “Money comes and goes, and you know that. Tomorrow you could seal a deal with the arms trade you’ve been working, and you know our investments have been paying off in spades. But a good wife is beyond measure, and Aren has a sister.”

“You’ve been married, for what, two fucking days and you’re giving me this shit?” I reply, but my mind is already spinning with what he’s saying. I never dismiss Nicolai’s suggestions without really weighing my options. Aren is one of the youngest brigadiers in America and has a reputation that precedes him everywhere he goes. He commands men under him, and I’m grateful he hasn’t risen higher in power.

He grunts at me and narrows his eyes. “I’ve loved Marissa for a lot longer than we’ve had rings on our fingers.”

“I know it, brother,” I tell him. “Just giving you shit. Go on.”

“Aren’s sister is single, lives with him on their compound. Young. I don’t know much about her, and haven’t seen a recent picture, but I met her years ago when I first came to America. And she was a beauty then. I imagine she’s only grown more beautiful.”

Seconds ago, this idea seemed preposterous, but now that I’m beginning to think about it, I’m warming to the idea.

“You think he’d let her go to pay off his debt?”

“With enough persuasion? Hell yeah. And a good leader needs a wife. You’ve seen it yourself. There’s something to be said for having a woman to come home to. The most powerful men in the brotherhood are all married.”

He’s right. Just last week, I met with Demyan from Moscow and his wife Larissa. He brings her everywhere with him. The two are inseparable. And he’s risen to be one of the most powerful men the Bratva has ever known.

“And face it, Tomas. You’re not exactly in the position to meet a pretty girl at church.”

I huff out a laugh. The men of the Bratva rarely obtain women by traditional means.

I lift my phone and dial Lev.


“Get me a picture of Aren Kosolov’s sister,” I tell him. Our resident hacker and computer genius, Lev works quickly and efficiently.

“Give me five minutes,” he says.


I hang up the phone and turn to Nicolai. “I want to see her first,” I tell him.

“Of course.”

“How’s Marissa?”

He fills me in about home, his voice growing softer as he talks about Marissa, but I’m only half-listening to him. I’m thinking about the way a woman changes a man, and how he’s changed because of her.

Do I need a wife?

The better question is, do I want Aren Kosolov’s sister to be the one?

My phone buzzes, and Nicolai gestures for me to answer it. A text from Lev with a grainy picture pops up on the screen, followed by a text.

There are no recent pictures. This was from a few years ago, but it should give you a good idea.

Still, it’s a full profile picture. I murmur appreciatively. Wavy, unruly chestnut hair pulled back at the nape of her neck, with fetching tendrils curling around her forehead. Haunting hazel colored eyes below dark brows. High cheekbones, her skin flushed pink, and full, pink lips. She’s thin and graceful, though if I’m honest, a little too thin for me. The women I bed tend to be sturdier and curvy, able to withstand the way I like to fuck.

I don’t want to have this conversation via text. I call him and he answers right away.

“Background?” I ask.

“Never went to college. Under her brother’s watchful eye since her father died.”

“Lovely,” I mutter. He might not give her up easily.

“Temperament?” I ask, aware that I sound like I’m asking about adopting a puppy, but it fucking matters.

“Not sure, but she has no record on file at school or legally. Perfect record. Graduated top of her class in high school.” He snorts. “Volunteers in a soup kitchen in San Diego and attends the Orthodox Church on the weekend.”

Ah. A good girl. Points in her favor. Sometimes the good girls fall hard, and sometimes they’re tougher to break, but they intrigue me.





“Caroline?” I repeat. “That isn’t a Russian name.”

“Her mother was American.”

I nod thoughtfully. Caroline Koslov.

She would take my name.

Caroline Dobrynin.

I drum my fingers on my desk, contemplating. I nod to Nicolai when I instruct Lev. “Get Aren on the phone.”

USA Today bestselling author Jane Henry pens stern but loving alpha heroes, feisty heroines, and emotion-driven happily-ever-afters. She writes what she loves to read: kink with a tender touch. Jane is a hopeless romantic who lives on the East Coast with a houseful of children and her very own Prince Charming.
Connect with Jane at http://janehenryromance.com

#ReleaseBlitz “Healing Summer” by Liz Flaherty

Title: The Healing Summer
Author: Liz Flaherty
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 30, 2019

When Steven Elliott accidentally rides his bike into Carol Whitney’s car at the cemetery, their out-of-control lives take on new and exciting possibilities. Long friendship wends its way into something deeper and feelings neither of them expected to experience again enrich their days and nights. But what will happen when the long summer ends and Steven leaves their hometown to once again take up his prestigious career as a cardio-thoracic surgeon and Carol loses the dream of the family, commitment, and future that she’s allowed herself to want?

Life gets in the way before either Steven or Carol are ready, and they wonder if their romance will fade and fall with the leaves when hot days turn to the briskness of autumn.

“Liz Flaherty has scored again!” – Author Nan Reinhardt

“It is a fabulous book….” – Karen the Baroness

“I enjoyed this book. It is a pretty quick read but mostly because I couldn’t put it down. I wanted the characters to find their ways of healing and to bond in the process. I give this book 5 of 5 stars.” – Christina K., reviewer on NetGalley

There had been other “hook-ups,” both during break-up times and since Promise’s death, but he had never given serious thought to waking up with anyone he slept with—at least, not on a consistent basis. No one ever asked or expected him to be faithful. No one called him her boyfriend. No one admitted they had to pee like a racehorse—it was as if the women he’d been with didn’t have bodily functions other than orgasm.
Not that exclusivity was a problem. It wasn’t at all. 
“I don’t need you to fall in love with me or promise me lifelong loyalty or any of that. I don’t even expect you to consider our relationship a…well, a relationship, but I’m not much into that kind of adventure, either.” She grinned sheepishly. “I know I sound like a prude, but so be it.”
He knew she was no prude. She was exciting and sexy and so much fun he sometimes he went days on end thinking he might actually be able to live without Promise. Not just exist, but live, with a large part of his heart intact.
“I want to be your boyfriend,” he said. “No class ring—I hocked it to buy beer when I was a freshman in college. But we’ll sit together at all the Little League games and the Cup and Cozy and I’ll even buy—if I have any money. When you’re taking care of Reese and pretending you’re not, I’ll pretend right along with you. What do you think?”
“I think you have your eye on my Mustang.”
“Nah, it’s too little—hurts my knees—though I probably look good in it. Not as good as I do on a motorcycle, but not bad. I’ll be an excellent boyfriend.” He lifted her hand, turning the chain he’d given her round and round. “Boyfriends give charm bracelets.” 
“Well, since you did give me the bracelet and I love it, it’s okay with me if you’re my boyfriend. For the summer anyway.” She leaned in to kiss him, her hand on his shoulder, and he caught her wrist just to touch her. He loved her skin.
“You don’t think I’ll stay in Peacock, do you?” He held her gaze.
“No.” But she didn’t seem unhappy—not even a little bit sad. “You’re too—I don’t know—intense, maybe. You move too fast. No one does that here. You know that. Besides, you’ve been gone too long. Other than a few weeks some summers and the awful time while Promise was sick, you haven’t actually lived here since you left for Vanderbilt. And I don’t think you’ve wanted to, have you?”
She was right—until this summer, he hadn’t wanted to come back here. But that was before finding Miss Abigail’s. Before Jamie Scott died.
Before Carol.
“Dillon was away for years,” he said. “He didn’t even come and visit after his folks retired to Arizona, and look at him now. You couldn’t pry him off Lawyers Row with a crowbar.”
Carol shook her head. “Dillon came home and found Grace. Had she not been here, he wouldn’t be either.”
But you’re here. Steven didn’t say the words out loud. He was startled to have even thought them.
She checked the clock on the oven. “It’s time for me to go. I told Grace I’d pick them up at ten. When are you guys leaving?”
“As soon as everyone kisses his wife goodbye. I’ll follow you into town and kiss you at the same time so you won’t feel out of place or anything.”
She went to the sink, rinsing the coffee carafe and their cups and draping the dishcloth neatly over the sink divider. “That’s really big of you. You’re not going to throw your cell phone away or anything like they did in that movie, are you?” 
He picked up her suitcase to follow her out the door. “Nope. Why? Are you going to worry about me?”

“Heavens, no.” She opened the Mustang’s trunk for him. “I’m not your mother.” She gave a little toss of her ponytail. “I’m your girlfriend.”
Retired from the post office and married to Duane for…a really long time, USA Today bestselling author Liz Flaherty has had a heart-shaped adult life, populated with kids and grands and wonderful friends. She admits she can be boring, but hopes her curiosity about everyone and everything around her keeps her from it. She likes traveling and quilting and reading. And she loves writing.


#CoverReveal “All Threats Within (The Cyber War Book 2)” by Sam Boush

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Date Published: February 4, 2020
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7 days.
That’s all it’s taken.
A new war is raging.
Sergeant Camille Martel has served her country well. Always strong, ruthless, powerful. Yet the respect she deserves continues to elude her.
But her next mission finally promises to reward her efforts.
Brendan Chogan may have disabled an enemy sub, but in the seven days since America fell into darkness, he’s never felt so vulnerable. He wants to flee the city, take his family inland, to safety, yet he’s second-guessing every decision he makes.
And Brendan’s hesitation may lead to unthinkable consequences.
Society is crumbling, relationships faltering, and a terrifying uncertainty is unfolding throughout the world.
It’s a time when allegiances must be made.
The second book in the gripping Cyber War series is a non-stop, adrenaline-infused battle for survival and will have you scanning each and every shadow for threats.
About the Author

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Sam has worked as a wildland firefighter, journalist, and owner of a mid-sized marketing agency. Though he’s lived in France and Spain, his heart belongs to Portland, Oregon, where he lives with his wife, Tehra, two wonderful children, and a messy cat that keeps them from owning anything nice.


Contact Links
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RABT Book Tours & PR

#BlogTour “River in Darkness (River’s End)” by Leanne Davis

Title: River in Darkness
Series: River’s End Series
Author: Leanne Davis
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 22, 2019

Iris Rydell has her dream job working at Rydell Rides. Her life and future are exactly as she wants them. She’s tough, respected by her co-workers, accepted by her family, and adores being a mechanic. There’s nothing she’s searching for.

Until Quinn Larkin, billionaire and city-transplant, shows up in River’s End with his broken-down car that Iris starts to fix. Quinn is immediately intrigued by Iris. She grabs his attention when nothing and no one else does.

Bored out of his mind by his job, his friends, his staff and his money… she’s the first person that’s held his attention for more than a conversation. It’s going to be a quick, fun weekend. They both get this. They both count on that. The problem is… no one’s ever not wanted Quinn before. And for the first time ever… he wants someone and something for far more than a weekend. He has to convince Iris that she wants them to be an “us.” And there is no greater challenge in Quinn’s life than that.

And for a while he succeeds.

But then one day something changes with Iris. She has a secret she’s hiding. A secret no one will ever be ready for.

A secret that will change everything, for everyone… forever. 

Amazon Review – “A story that will grab your heart”

Amazon Review – “A story that shows how love can help heal and triumph over tragedy.”


Leanne Davis writes new adult & contemporary romance. Her books have been listed on numerous Amazon bestseller lists, including the Movers & Shakers list and in Amazon’s Top 120 overall books. She is also a #1 Bestselling New Adult author by The Other Sister.

Leanne lives in Western Washington in the outskirts of Seattle. Rain, traffic and Starbucks really are a thing here. But so is endless evergreens, water and mountains. There is nowhere else she’d rather spend her time when not writing, than grabbing some coffee or slipping off into the natural wonders of the area.


#BlogTour “Ravenous (Steel Brothers Saga #11)” by Helen Hardt

Ravenous (Steel Brothers Saga #11) 

by New York Times Bestselling author Helen Hardt


Kindle: https://amzn.to/2Zofl1a
Print: https://amzn.to/2XkAXOI
Apple Books: https://apple.co/2KXuuUg
Nook: http://bit.ly/2IuqvfB
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2ItG7jx
Kobo: http://bit.ly/35dWfxN
Goodreads: bit.ly/GR_Ravenous
International: http://bit.ly/SBS_Ravenous

Genre: Contemporary Romance 

#Ravenous #SteelBrothersSaga #HelenHardt

#ReleaseBlitz #RomanceRead #BareNakedWords #WaterhousePress


Bryce Simpson did the only thing he could. He spurned Marjorie Steel. Even though he’ll be living on her ranch, he is determined to stay away from her. She’s worthy of more than he can even think about giving, especially now that long-buried memories are surfacing and he’s learning that his father’s sins may go even deeper than he imagined.

Bryce’s rejection destroys Marjorie, and she descends to a dark place she thought she’d abandoned forever. She emerges stronger, though, and is determined not to let heartbreak rule her life. Change is the answer, she’s sure, so she makes plans—plans that include a handsome personal trainer she meets at the gym.

When Bryce and Marjorie are thrown together, though, their ravenous hunger for each other takes over, leaving both of them more vulnerable than they realize.
Want to start this series?

Craving – book 1
#1 New York Times, #1 USA Today, and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author Helen Hardt’s passion for the written word began with the books her mother read to her at bedtime. She wrote her first story at age six and hasn’t stopped since. In addition to being an award winning author of contemporary and historical romance and erotica, she’s a mother, a black belt in Taekwondo, a grammar geek, an appreciator of fine red wine, and a lover of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. She writes from her home in Colorado, where she lives with her family. Helen loves to hear from readers.
Buy Links for all Helen’s Books: http://www.helenhardt.com/book/

#BookBlitz “The Final Play (Branch Avenue Boys Book 3)” by Shelly Ellis

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Best friends. Lethal choices.

Three best friends from the streets found success–in very different ways. But with a crisis detonating around them, their bond could also destroy everything they care about . . .

No matter how tough the odds, Ricky, Derrick, and Jamal learned to unite and fight during their time at the Branch Avenue Boys’ Youth Institute. But their adult lives have driven them apart—and set off a series of events their friendship may not survive.

All Jamal’s political achievements can’t erase his bargain with D.C.’s corrupt mayor. And when he finds himself the latest target on Mayor Johnson’s hit list, he’ll risk everything to end the mayor’s deadly reign—even if it’s the last move he ever makes.

Institute head Derrick refuses to cave to D.C. drug king pin Dolla Dolla and sell out all he believes in. But his courageous stand might cost him the Institute—and the woman he loves . . .

With a pregnant girlfriend, Ricky can’t stay on the run forever. Now he’s making a dangerous play to win. But with Derrick and Jamal in Dolla’s sights, Ricky and his friends must resolve the conflicts keeping them apart if they want to come back together—even if that means none of the Branch Avenue Boys will be left standing . . .






Chapter 1 


“Hey! Hey!” someone shouted, making Derrick Miller lurch awake.

He opened his eyes and squinted against the bright morning light. He dazedly looked around him, wondering why he had fallen asleep in his car and not his bed. He looked down at himself. And why was he still wearing his tuxedo?

The pounding in his head wasn’t helping him focus. It was like a jackhammer was trying to beat a hole through his skull. His mouth was dry, too. His neck, back, and shoulders ached after sitting up in the driver’s seat for he had no idea how long.

“Look, man, you can’t be sleepin’ here! This ain’t no damn hotel!” a muffled voice shouted at him.

Derrick turned slightly in his seat to find a security guard standing at the driver’s-side door, rapping his knuckles on the glass. The guard—a squat, fat, elderly man in a too-tight uniform—was scowling at him and sending spittle flying at the window.

As Derrick stared back at him, he finally realized where he was. He had fallen asleep in his Nissan in the same parking garage he had parked in last night. After he had left the education gala, after his girlfriend, Morgan, had walked out on him—probably for good—he had decided to lick his wounds and stay huddled up in his car. Derrick had been too drunk to drive home. He hadn’t wanted to make his bad evening worse with a car accident or getting pulled over by Metro Police for a DUI.

He had already dodged being sent to jail last night. There was no need to take the chance again.

“I’m tellin’ you, man. If you don’t move this car, I’m callin’ the cops!” the guard shouted. “I’m not playin’!”

Derrick held up his hands and nodded groggily. “I’m leavin’. I’m . . . I’m leavin’. Just . . . just give me a second to get . . . get myself together. Okay?”

He tiredly scrubbed his hands over his face and turned on the engine. He threw the car into reverse and pressed the accelerator, making the car heave back and the guard jump out of the way to keep from getting hit or his toes run over.

“Damn! Watch it! You tryin’ to kill somebody?” the guard yelled.

Derrick didn’t answer him. Instead, he continued to back out of the parking space, though he did so more carefully this time. He looked up and followed the EXIT signs, pointing his car in the same direction as the yellow arrows overhead until he finally reached the gate that would take him out of the garage onto a Northwest D.C. street that was already teeming with morning traffic.

As Derrick made the slow drive back to his apartment building, the events of last night came rushing back to him in lurid detail. The more he remembered, the more he cringed.

In one night, he had not only managed to lose the opportunity to get badly needed funding for the Branch Avenue Boys’ Youth Institute where he was executive director, but he’d also lost his girl . . . his love, Morgan. And he had done it all because of misguided jealousy and fury—all because he had found out his ex, Melissa, was now dating his former best friend, Jamal.

Now sober, Derrick realized how insane he must have looked last night to everyone in that ballroom as he yelled and cursed. He could still hear the echoes of the screams from the crowd around them as he punched Jamal in the face in a fit of rage near the hotel’s elevators.

Did he regret what he’d done? He certainly regretted the aftermath. He did love Morgan and hadn’t wanted her to think otherwise. He had wanted to make a good impression on John and Eliza Mayhew—the wealthy couple whom Morgan had arranged for him to meet at the gala in the hope that they would donate money to the Institute. Derrick hadn’t wanted to squander either opportunity. But how was he expected not to lash out, to not feel anything about Jamal’s betrayal? He was only human; any redblooded man in a similar situation probably would have done the same damn thing. Derrick just wished he hadn’t done it so publicly. He wished Morgan hadn’t been there. He shouldn’t have been so reckless or stupid.

When he arrived at his apartment building twenty minutes later, he pulled into a vacant space, slowly opened his car door, and staggered onto the sidewalk. His head was still pounding. He still felt like he needed sunglasses to keep out the morning sun. A couple of minutes later, he shoved open his front door, revealing an eerily quiet apartment.

He didn’t expect Morgan to be here, even though she had moved in with him briefly. They were both supposed to move into their new apartment in a few weeks in Brookland, near Gallaudet University. It would’ve been the first place they had gotten together.

Morgan’s lease at her apartment had ended earlier than his. She had been staying here until their big move.

Until I fucked that up, he thought morosely as he closed the apartment door behind him.

Derrick had managed to lose two women and a cat in less than six months. He was certain of it now: He was horrible at relationships.

He walked down the hall to his bedroom, removing his tie from around his neck and his jacket along the way. After he’d stripped off all of his clothes, he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, pulling back his dreads and securing them with a rubber. Derrick hadn’t been the one hit last night but his eyes were puffy, probably from the lack of a good night’s sleep. Fatigue was all over his mahogany-hued face. He flexed his sore hand, climbed into the shower stall, and adjusted the shower head from the last time Morgan had used it, making it accommodate his tall height. He felt the hot blast of the water, hoping to wash away the frustration and shame he felt. Derrick emerged from the bathroom thirty minutes later, having brushed his teeth and taken some aspirin. When he did, he heard a thumping sound in his bedroom. He walked down the hall and found Morgan hunched over one of the drawers, shoving some of her clothes into a duffel bag. She was no longer wearing her gown from last night but a T-shirt and shorts. Her curly hair was in a loose bun atop her head.

He leaned against the door frame as he watched her. It was obvious she was unaware he was standing there because she went about her task without even giving him a glance.

He had been through this before when Melissa had packed her things and moved out after she found out he had been cheating with Morgan for months. But watching Morgan go through the same ritual, hurt even more. This was supposed to be the start of something new and fresh.

This was supposed to be the relationship he had finally gotten right. There was no tug-of-war with Morgan like what he’d experienced with Melissa even in their best of times because, though they’d loved each other, they were too different at heart. With Morgan, everything fell into place—and he had ruined it.

His phone rang, snapping her attention, making her turn around to look at his cell that sat on one of the night tables. When she did, her eyes landed on Derrick and she held up her free hand.

“I don’t wanna talk,” she said as the phone rang again. She returned her attention to her packing. “I just wanna get some of my shit and get the hell out of here. I’ll come back for the rest later. Okay?”

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

“You weren’t supposed to,” she muttered.

“Where are you staying?”

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she continued to pack.

“Morgan, don’t do this, baby! Look, I know what I did last night was fucked up,” he began, tightening the towel around his waist and walking toward her. “But I want you to know . . . I need you to understand that it wasn’t because I want to get back with Melissa. I know that’s over between us. I just—”

“The only reason why it’s over between you and Melissa is because she left you, Derrick,” Morgan said icily. “I was the consolation prize—the backup. I always was. I know that now. And the only reason you’re upset I’m leaving is you’ll be alone. But you’ll find another girl. Men like you always do. Another sucker will come along. Don’t worry!”

“You aren’t a sucker and you weren’t the consolation prize, damn it! I really do lov—”

“I don’t want to hear it anymore. I’m tired of your bullshit and your lying! You’re wasting your breath!” She glanced at his phone again. “You should probably answer that. It keeps ringing.”

The ringtone continued to fill the bedroom. He grimly pursed his lips and stepped around her to answer his cell.

“Yeah?” he said after pressing the green button.

“Mr. Miller,” Gary, one of the security guards at the Institute answered, “sir, I’m glad I caught you. We’ve got a situation up here.”

Derrick frowned. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? Is it one of the boys?”

At those words, Morgan halted. She turned and looked at Derrick.

In addition to being his girlfriend, Morgan was also an instructor at the Boys’ Institute. She taught woodworking and was one of the favorite teachers of most of the boys enrolled in the rehabilitation program. She had embraced the underprivileged teens, ignoring their troubled pasts and seeing them for who they were at their core. It was one of the things Derrick loved most about her.

“Something happened?” she whispered, narrowing her green eyes.

He shrugged helplessly as he listened to Gary on the other end.

“Yeah, it’s one of the boys. He’s disappeared,” Gary finally explained.


“Cole Humphries, sir. We checked the dormitories, all the classrooms, the basketball court . . . everywhere, and we can’t find him. One of the kids said he thinks he saw Cole sneak out last night, but it’s not on any of our security footage. We don’t know where he went.”

Derrick grimaced.

Cole was one of his more troubled students. He had been working for one of the biggest drug kingpins in D.C., Dolla Dolla, before one of his crimes had landed him at the Institute. He’d even been holding and transporting drugs and money for Dolla Dolla at the school, until Derrick and Morgan had confronted him together and put a stop to it. Cole had promised them that he would no longer work for Dolla Dolla, that he would clean up his ways. Now Derrick wondered if he had been telling them the truth.

“Okay,” he murmured. “I’ll be in soon. I’ll start making phone calls to see if I can track him down.” “Okay, sir,” Gary said before hanging up.

“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked as Derrick lowered his cell phone back to his night table.

“Cole’s missing.”

What? Did he run away?”

“Looks like it,” he said, yanking his towel from around his waist and tossing it to the floor. He strode to his dresser and began to gather underwear and socks.

She dazedly shook her head. “But why would he . . . I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either, but I have to find him before the cops do.” He stepped into his boxer briefs. “He’s going to be in violation of his sentence for leaving the Institute like this. He could get sent to jail.”

Though the boy had been a thorn in Derrick’s side pretty much since he’d arrived at the Institute, he didn’t want to see Cole go to prison. Putting a young man in a cell with older, hardened criminals who had committed much worse crimes than him would only make Cole worse, not better. And honestly, Derrick saw a little of his young self in Cole—the false bravado, the swagger. Those were the same traits that had landed Derrick at the Institute twenty years ago, before he’d learned the error of his ways.

“I’ll help you,” Morgan said, making him pause and stare at her in surprise.


“I said I’ll help you find Cole! I’ll talk to some of his friends at the Institute. Maybe they’ll tell me why he would leave . . . where he went. He could be at his mom’s house, but he might not. What if he went back to Dolla? What if something happened and he just had to go, Derrick?”

Derrick was considering that, too. Maybe Cole hadn’t run away from school, but was fleeing from something else . . . or someone else.

“The boys trust me. They might tell me stuff that they won’t tell the rest of you,” she insisted.

“You don’t have to do this.”

After all that he had put her through, she would still be willing to help him?

“I know. But I care about Cole and what happens to him.”

He stared at her for several seconds before slowly nodding. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Let’s be clear though. This ain’t for you. We’re done.” She pointed at herself then him then back again. “This is for Cole.” She zipped her duffel bag closed and threw the strap over her shoulder. “I’ll wait for you in the living room while you get dressed,” she said.

He watched silently as she walked out of the room.


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Shelly Ellis is an award-winning journalist who earned her journalism degree at the University of Maryland, College Park. Her novel, Another Woman’s Man, was nominated for a 2015 NAACP Image Award. The romance and women’s fiction author is also a film buff and amateur painter. She lives in Maryland with her husband and daughter.




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#TeaserTuesday “Storm of Secrets” by Loretta Marion

coverBook two in the Haunted Bluffs Mystery Series
Mystery (with elements of the paranormal and whispers of romance)
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books, distributed by Penguin Random House
Date Published: November 12, 2019
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A deadly storm, a missing three-year-old child, a suspicious death, and the eerie presence of the spirits of the dead set the stage for the second mesmerizing installment of Loretta Marion’s paranormal suspense series.
A powerful storm descends upon Cape Cod’s Whale Rock at the peak of tourist season–and the weekend Cassandra Mitchell’s and Daniel Benjamin’s wedding is set to take place at The Bluffs, the magnificent Victorian mansion Cassie inherited from her family. In the wake of the storm’s destruction, three-year-old Lucas Kleister goes missing–and the body of small-time drug dealer Lee Chambers is found in a restaurant dumpster. Now, the WRPD are faced with a murder to solve, a missing child to find, and the aftermath of one of the worst storms in recent memory.
While aiding with the clean-up and helping the displaced, Cassie has been receiving cryptic messages from the spirits of her great-grandparents, Percy and Celeste Mitchell, the original residents of The Bluffs. At first, the messages are benign, but soon, they begin to point to something more sinister. As Cassie works to decipher their meaning, the specter of a mysterious local legend surfaces. The tale of Barnacle Boy–and what happened to him during another destructive storm decades earlier–will weave through the desperate search to find Lucas and the identity of a killer.
“Modern and historic mysteries collide in Marion’s bittersweet storytelling.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“[A] gripping sequel…Marion seamlessly weaves the multiple story threads together. Fans of tales of regional intrigue will be satisfied.”
On the short walk to my car, a sparkle caught my eye on the ground near a temporary dumpster behind La Table, the new location of my old flame Billy Hughes’s catering business.
Later, I reflected on how different things would have been had I not been so curious.
What if I hadn’t had the dress fitting today? What if I hadn’t parked in Archie’s space? What if I hadn’t gone out the back door of his shop? What if I hadn’t gone over to examine what was glittering next to the dumpster?
“The what ifs and should haves will eat your brain.” It was a quote of John O’Callaghan’s, from his book of poetry entitled, Sincerely, John the Ghost—ironically, a gift from Zoe, who’d always eschewed the notion of Percy’s and Celeste’s spirits.
The point is, if I hadn’t done all those things, then I wouldn’t have seen that glint on the ground and gone over to check out what it was. Most crucially, I would never have noticed a hand through the rusted-out hole in the dumpster.
A very dead hand.
About the author:

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A true bibliophile, Loretta Marion’s affection for the written word began in childhood and followed her like a shadow throughout her life as she crafted award-winning marketing and advertising copy and educational brochures. She then applied her writing skills as a volunteer, establishing a Legacy Story program for hospice patients, which inspired her to create her own fictional stories. Her debut novel, The Fool’s Truth, is a twisty mystery set in Maine. Her Haunted Bluffs Mystery Series is set on Cape Cod and was introduced by Crooked Lane Books in 2018 beginning with HOUSE OF ASHES. Her newest release, STORM OF SECRETS, is the second book of the series.
When not whipping out words on her laptop, she is traveling, enjoying outdoor pursuits, or is curled up with a delicious new book. Loretta lives in Rhode Island with her husband, Geoffrey.
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